“Listening”

They call me,

The mountains,

The green flowing fields,

The rock, and the tree,

In my soul their song peals.

The moss covered slate,

The ripened berry,

The locust, the robin,

They awaken and stir me.

My spirit rises,

To answer their call,

But confined by my body,

Its voice is kept small.

In restless acceptance,

I still pause to hear,

The song of nature,

If in my spirit only, so clear.